


Reserve 3110

by pretzelmintz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Halloween, Halloween story, No Romance, Other, it was an english assignement, its not a fandom, like blood and dismemberment, ohh spooky story, points if you get why its called "3110", slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretzelmintz/pseuds/pretzelmintz
Summary: 1997, the year of hope.At least, for the survivors.Five years it took to contain the virus that shook the world and robbed it of freedom. Five years of flesh-eating horror, what you would refer to as zombies. The word zombie does not come close to explain what these creatures were, but enough focusing on the past.On October 31st of the same year, the celebration began.You’d think these survivors would be too traumatised to carve pumpkins and eat candy, but you’d be wrong.





	Reserve 3110

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU ENJOY

1997, the year of hope. 

At least, for the survivors. 

Five years it took to contain the virus that shook the world and robbed it of freedom. Five years of flesh-eating horror, what you would refer to as zombies. The word zombie does not come close to explain what these creatures were, but enough focusing on the past.  
On October 31st of the same year, the celebration began.  
You’d think these survivors would be too traumatised to carve pumpkins and eat candy, but you’d be wrong. 

 

Older siblings helped their younger siblings decorate their houses with pumpkin stickers and orange lights. Children were out and about, gallivanting from house to house with their parents trailing behind them, carrying their candy and whatever costume part their child grew tired of wearing. Teens that claimed to be too old for trick or treating were waiting on their balconies, handing out candy, either smiling with glee or wishing they were doing literally anything but giving sweets to already hyperactive toddlers. The costumes ranged from masterfully put together outfits to lazy and last minute affairs, like the classic toilet paper mummy.  
The night was going well, however, just for safety, police officers were stationed around the reserve. 

 

A young child, around five years old, tumbled down the stairs of his house front, beaming with excitement. His costume resembled that of Frankenstein. His parents followed soon after, smiling at their son, who they had never seen this happy. He was born just before the outbreak, and was a young baby for the duration of it. Seeing their child happy like this made them tear up a bit.  
“Riley, stick close to us, remember?” said his mother.  
Riley nodded, and did as they said. They went to a few houses, picked up a few sweets, until Riley had already grown tired. Not thinking straight, he wandered off, his parents not noticing him.  
It was at this moment that one of the police officers stationed at the end of the road caught sight of the young boy. His heart began to beat so fast, he felt it would erupt out of his throat. Hands and legs shaking, mind racing, he quivered at what he saw.  
Losing his senses, he raised his gun and, drowning out the noise of his partner yelling at him, he shot at the zombie. The bullet soared to Riley, and passed straight through his head before he could react. 

On that night, people claimed to feel a presence ascend into the air.

 

October 31st, 2017, the date of Halloween. The reserve had grown, and grown safer. An eerie feeling crept through the air, yet there was hardly any wind, and the bushes quivered on the edge of the reserve. It was as if something was lurking. Yet no one seemed to notice. The holiday happened as it had for the past twenty years since the end of the apocalypse. The kids still yearned for candy, the teens still exasperated, the costumes still varying.  
A group of three teens parted from the commotion, and foolishly ventured into the woods, in hopes of a frightening adventure. They walked for five minutes before the bushes parted into a clearing. They decided it was the perfect place to tell horror stories.  
They settled down, inhaled their candy, and began.  
One told a tale of a figure of shadow being spotted in the woods, eating children that strayed from the reserve. People claimed that it was the spirit of a murdered citizen, seeking revenge, yet no one knew why it wanted revenge.  
Scared, but not wanting to admit it, they laughed it off as nothing but a silly story. 

 

They did not know how much time had passed, but the sky was pitch black, with no moon to provide light. Odd, as no clouds covered the sky and the new moon had been eleven days previously. They didn’t think much of it, and gave annoyed looks at the teen who had somehow memorised this month’s moon cycle. NERD!  
After they were done taunting, they gathered their candy wrappers and stood up. As the teens prepared to walk home, an eerie howl disrupted the calm of the night. All of a sudden, a thick cold breeze wafted over the clearing. As they wondered if it was just their imaginations, since they had eaten a lot of candy, an enormous figure erupted from the undergrowth.  
It had a long muzzle and tail, along with fur and four paws.  
For a very brief moment, the teens were relieved, since it was just a wolf and they had seen one before, and may or may not have dared each other to punch it. However, this wolf was strange.  
Its pelt was entirely black, and the light shown from their flashlight did not reflect off of it. The only parts that stood out were two narrowed moon white eyes and teeth. Punching did not seem like an option, unless they had an immediate death wish.  
The three teens screamed in horror, but before they could run, large black vines appeared out of the wolf’s flanks, and wrapped around them tightly. 

The screams were squeezed out of them. 

The wolf’s white eyes shone menacingly, and glared directly at them.  
There didn’t need to be a moon in the sky, the wolf had practically trapped it in its eyeballs. 

Raising the first teen higher, the two vines began to stretch him out, pulling his torso and legs in separate directions. Choking on his screams and unable to defend himself, the vines proceeded to savagely rip him in half. Scarlet droplets showered the ground, the coils dropping the now separated two halves of the body. 

His friends looked on in revulsion and horror. They squirmed in a desperate attempt to get free, but to no avail. 

The wolf wasn’t finished. 

It brought the second teen closer to its jaws, opening them, and snapping them shut over her head, more blood showering. 

Finally, the third teen lowered his head in defeat, waiting for his fate. He knew there was no escape. Lifting him up high enough so he could see the reserve at the end of the forest, he said one last goodbye before the wolf threw him against the ground so hard, his neck snapped with a vicious crack. 

The grass, now painted red, was littered with the bodies of the three teens. The wolf spent no time gloating, for it felt no triumph, nor any other emotion. It did not even notice the three butterflies that had just settled on the bodies. With sleekness and swiftness, it started to make its way to the reserve, melting into the darkness. It wasn’t interested in murdering a few kids. It knew exactly where it was headed. 

 

At the very edge of the reserve, a man sat on the couch in his house. The curtains were closed and the lights were off, the only light coming through the cracks of the front door. He stared at the ground for an inestimable amount of time. The world around him was grey. Storms raged inside his head, lightning illuminating what he’d done. The cries of zombies were soon drowned by the sound of a gunshot, and even more screaming.  
A chill passed through his body. Tears stained his cheeks, and new ones threatened to roll out of his sharp hazel eyes.  
All of a sudden, a sound could be heard from the man’s chimney.  
Briefly looking up, he witnessed a black liquid slowly ooze out of his fireplace. 

He merely stared at it. 

It began to rise up his walls, enveloping everything in his house, leaving only a small circle of floor around him. A massive pair of white eyes shone in the black fluid. Suddenly, a head and two claws leaped at him, and held him by the throat. The man did not struggle, nor fight back. It was a lost cause. The eyes shone with icy rage. A smooth but menacing voice rang through the room. Finally. At the same time, a muffled and quieter voice spoke. Forgiveness. The vines erupted out of the darkness, and shot straight through the man. More vines exploded out of the fluid, wrapping him up violently. 

The man still did not fight back. 

He deserved this fate for what he’d done.  
The wolf, satisfied, soaked up the liquid and reformed into its canine build. It stood over the man as the life drained out of him. It stared directly into his eyes, the hazel he had searched for.  
Twenty years.

As the man lay dying, he swore he could see the figure of a young boy in a Frankenstein costume. 

Forgive me.

**Author's Note:**

> WOO BOY


End file.
